Masochist
by setFIREtomyHEART
Summary: Luke is going to make Reid have fun if it kills him. Or at least significantly injures him. Continuation of Hippocratic, but stands alone.


"…you really don't do anything but work, do you?" Luke's voice is incredulous with a curious tint. As much as Reid has been mysteriously endeared to this oft-grinning young rich kid, the sun is too bright and too hot as Luke trails behind him like a obnoxiously cute puppy, and recurring nightmare number four kept him from getting any restful sleep.

"There was knitting club on Thursday nights, but that disbanded after there was a fist fight over stealing patterns, it was all very serious business," Reid's tongue is acid, but he can hear Luke chuckling behind him, and he continues to walk away from their hotel and down the sidewalk of the busy city to hide his smile. "What does it matter?"

"Because everyone should have fun," Luke says this as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, the 'duh' tone softened with grin Reid can tell is wide on his face. "I've decided, we are going to do something fun. It's better pacing around the hotel waiting for the phone to ring. "

"Maybe I would prefer that to whatever half baked scheme you're currently concocting in your clearly defective brain," Reid spits out, a little more venom then perhaps necessary. But he knows that going out will probably means getting a black eye like the last time he was dragged out to social settings against his will (for the record, it was med school post senior year exams, and that cowboy really did go cross-eyed whenever he insulted someone). And no matter what Luke's smile does to him, he knows that Noah will get his sight back and they will once again be the One True Couple of Oakdale. Which leave Reid as Once Again Alone (which he definitely does not mind one bit). And one thing Dr. Reid Oliver isn't, is a masochist.

That's what he tells himself anyway. It gets a little harder to keep this mantra going when Luke pulls at his jacket sleeve, turning him around so that he can see that dimpled smile that shines like the sun. "Look! An ice cream stand!" Reid suddenly finds himself composing a demanding prayer for that man upstairs he says he doesn't have patience for.

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They're sitting on a park bench in the heat wave of the afternoon, surrounded by what seems like a swarming mass of children. This was definitely not Reid's idea, and he shoots a glare over at the ringleader of the day's 'fun' activities, who is eating his double scoop of rocky road with a pleased expression. A drip has already started from the bottom of the waffle cone, and every drip onto his jeans that Luke does not notice makes Reid twitch. Though he can't help but he a little more occupied with creamy and chocolate line dripping down from the corner of Luke's moist pink mouth.

"You have a little something." Reid gestures awkwardly to the spot on his own face, trying to show that he's more annoyed than…affected. He clears his throat as Luke clears it away with a napkin, his eyes trained on the group of shrieking kids hopping past them playing lava monsters. "So, this is your big idea of fun? Sitting in the humidity watching snot noised brats play on dangerous metal playground equipment? I think you have the mistaken impression that because I foolishly told you my sob story last night in a fit of insanity that I secretly adore things like frolicking kittens and sparkly vampires."

"Like there's anything actually fun that you'd rather be doing," Luke tossed back at him, making a dismissive noise at him with a crooked grin.

"I'd rather be having a drink," Reid says in an undertone, resisting the urge to put his head in his hands, feeling a dull ache building behind his eyes. Luke stands, nodding towards the path back to the sidewalk with a raised eyebrow. "What now? Are we going to go ride a unicorn?" Luke laughs out loud, grabbing Reid's hand and tugging him up.

"No, Dr. Gregory House, we're going to go find a bar." Reid is surprised enough by the interlaced fingers between them that he brooks no argument, just follows Luke back to the street, his hand feels warm where the blonde's hand pulls him along, his face feels a notch warmer than usual as well. He tells himself that this means absolutely nothing. Hand holding does not mean 'your room or mine?' Though they're back to walking down the strip, and Luke's fingers are still entwined with his. Reid clears his throat because he really is not a masochist, he's not, and Luke blushes beautifully and drops the contact. Now it's Reid's turn to raise an eyebrow.

Luke wheels around, looking for something to feel the awkward space with a flush still on his cheeks. "Look! That bar has a mechanical bull!"

Reid thinks that maybe he should have just kept holding his hand.


End file.
